Don't Go Down That Road
by The Real Damien Thorn
Summary: This wasn't some fairy tale where he rescues the princess – in this case, the prince – and they declare their undying love for each other and live happily ever after. This is reality, where Stan runs down several hundred feet of mountain just to escape him.


Cartman considered himself to be a trustworthy person. Not everyone shared the same sentiment, but what did they know? He hadn't killed anyone…directly. Kyle was always quick to point out the incident involving Scott Tenorman's parents whenever Cartman was feeling particularly innocent. But still, he believed himself to be a good person for the most part. Everyone had their bad days; Cartman's just seemed to all hit at once and happen more frequently than most other people.

That wasn't necessarily a bad thing; some of the brunette's greatest ideas came when he was feeling evil. Who could argue with his boy band idea? It would have been gold if Kenny hadn't mysteriously disappeared. And the fact that one member of the boy band was, in fact, Wendy Testaburger, a girl. And who could forget Cartman starting up his own church? He'd gained a million dollars at eight years old! Now that was an accomplishment. His amusement park was also another million dollar idea, the list could go on and on.

So what he just couldn't comprehend was why Stan wouldn't take him seriously when he asked to take him off-roading. It was Cartman's first try at somewhat asking the more athletic boy on a _date_ , dare he say it, and Stan seemed totally against the idea.

"No way, dude, you're not taking me out into the middle of nowhere," Stan had given him that look, the one he surely picked up from Kyle, but looked so different from the redhead's. For one, it was less confident. Cartman could see through Stan's walls – the boy wasn't entirely unsure about his decline. Stan looked rather interested under his pretense.

"Stan, it's just up the mountains. I'm not taking you to the desert, for Christ's sake!" Cartman slid a hand up and rested it against a locker, leaning slightly toward the other boy.

"Okay, but why with me? It's just a little suspicious." Stan closed his locker toward and stepped away; Cartman followed him down the hall and out the double doors.

"How is it suspicious?" Cartman rolled his eyes. "Kenny's busy that day, and I'm not inviting the Jew for obvious reasons."

"Why don't you invite Butters?"

"He's a wuss! He'll ask me to stop every three seconds or throw up or something. Plus, I think he's grounded." God damn, just accept the invitation already!

Stan bit his lip, and Cartman held off his grinning just yet. The football star was contemplating it, and would most likely say yes, based on that lip bite. Cartman could read him like a book. "Well…I guess it couldn't hurt."

"I knew it."

"Shut up; I've always kinda wanted to go off-roading, anyway, and now that it's getting warmer, the snow won't be a problem…" Stan rambled on as they walked toward their neighborhood. They uttered short goodbyes when they went their separate ways, Stan asking Cartman to text him the details later.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Stan had never been a morning person, so it came as no surprise that he was in a grumpy mood. Cartman found it rather endearing, actually.

"Why the fuck are we leaving this early in the goddamn morning? Waking up at five on a motherfucking Saturday. This better be worth it, asshole."

Cartman smiled to himself. "You're an absolute joy to be around, you know that, Stan?"

"Whatever." Stan slouched down in the passenger seat, kicking his feet up onto the dash of Cartman's truck. He played on his phone a bit; Cartman watched him out of the corner of his eye. He was watching the raven so intensely he didn't even notice he was talking until Stan waved his hand in front of his face. "Cartman!"

"Hmm?"

Stan gave an annoyed huff. "I asked if you'd been off-roading before. Like, you've done this before, right? This isn't your first time?"

Well… "Of course I've done this before! You think I'm going to take you out onto rocky cliffs and drive off them without experience?" _Well, you are absolutely fucking right, pal_! "Get real."

Stan didn't look particularly comforted, snaking his hand up and fastening his seatbelt. "Alright…If you kill me, I swear to God I'm going to haunt you so bad."

Cartman smirked. _You already do_. "Better not. If I have to hear your constant whining all the time, your ass will be exorcised."

" _Good luck_." Stan chuckled a bit, turning his head to look out the window. They'd reached the bottom of the mountain now, and were about to drive up the daunting thing. Cartman would be lying if he said he wasn't a bit nervous. What the hell did he know about off-roading? It just seemed like the manly type of activity Stan would go for, and it gave them the privacy Cartman was going to need.

The _plan_ was to give the raven a good time and then express his feelings to him. If things went well like Cartman hoped they would, they'd drive cheerily down the mountain singing some cheesy song. If things went awry, on the other hand, and Stan, say, totally freaked out or _laughed_ at him, then killing the boy would be no hard task at all. Cartman just hoped it didn't come to that. He rather liked Stan, and killing him was near the bottom of the list of things he wanted to do.

So Cartman eased up the mountain, almost flipping his truck a couple times and having to endure Stan's screaming each time. They eventually came to a somewhat flat area with a few elevated areas that could serve as ramps. Or something. Really, Cartman had no clue how to off-road. So he tried to push the problem onto Stan. "Which one seems the most fun to go over?"

Stan slowly turned his head toward him, giving him an incredulous look. "Fuck if I know. You're the expert here."

Cartman gave a haughty laugh in spite of his nervousness. "Just _pick_ one." They were going to die.

Stan scratched at his neck before extending his arm to point at a somewhat large mound. "That one?" The overweight teen felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck. He pointed at another, smaller bump.

"You mean that one?"

"Uh, no, but okay." The raven bit his bottom lip, looking increasingly worried about Carman's skills. "You're sure you've done this before?"

" _Yes_ , get off of my case!" Cartman snapped. "I just don't want to start with a big one. Wanna build up a bit, you know? You don't just rush into these things! You gotta plan it out and hope it all goes well! You never know what the hell is going to be the outcome, but you take the risk anyway and Stan I really like you!"

Stan had put his hands up at the start of Cartman's little rant, but as it ended his hands went to cover his mouth. "What?"

"Stan…"

The more athletic of the two looked down at the dash, looking more shocked than anything else, before opening the passenger side door and hopping out of the truck. Well, this certainly wasn't going according to plan.

"Stan!"

The other held up a hand behind him, not bothering to look back as he started down the mountain.

"Stan, what the hell? Get back here!" Shit.

Okay, he had two options. One, he could get out of the truck and chase after Stan. He did not come this far just to have the boy walk off on him. Who did Stan think he was, just leaving like that? Not even an explanation, or a "Cartman, I really don't like you like that – I'm going to bleach my brain now"? Which led to option two: Assassination.

But damn, he couldn't kill Stan. There'd be way too much evidence. Maybe there was an unforeseen third option where Cartman could just drive back to his house and cut off all contact with Stan, and life goes on without incident because Stan's just too nice to out him like that. Cartman sat in his truck for a while, becoming increasingly aggravated.

He really is pissed that Stan would just leave like that. No explanation. Nothing. If he'd punched Cartman and told him to fuck off, the brunette would have accepted that and been on his not-so-merry way. But no reaction at all besides utter shock and then poof. Gone. Now that pissed Cartman off like nothing else could.

So that settled it. He would go with the first option and chase after the douchebag. He was getting some kind of reason why Stan just walked off like that, or there was going to be a very dead body in these mountains. Whether it was Stan or himself, Cartman didn't know or care. But he was getting answers.

This had proved to be a very interesting day, Stan thought. He knew he should have expected something like this when Cartman had invited him (and _only_ him) along to an off-road adventure. The fat bastard probably didn't even know what he was doing. Why would Eric Cartman ever be interested in driving around in the mountains? It had sounded a bit suspicious to Stan, but of course he didn't listen to his own gut, instead trusting the son of Ms. Cartman. Like an idiot.

He supposed that was one of his faults. He put too much trust in people. In Cartman. And now here he was. Stuck sliding down the slope of a mountain on a Saturday morning. He could've been sleeping.

Stan sighed, stopping and sitting down on a moss-covered rock. He didn't know why he'd just taken off like that. Maybe it was habit; he'd been known to disappear when things got out of control. This was definitely one of those situations. He'd been afraid, mostly. Shocked and afraid.

He'd admitted to himself that he found Cartman attractive back in seventh grade. It was right after he'd broken up with Wendy for the thirteenth time (yes, he did keep count) and Cartman had been the only one there for him. Kyle had long since grown tired of his constant moping around, and Kenny had other fish to fry. But Cartman was there, and while he didn't hold him or tell him everything was going to be okay, he _did_ stay up half the night playing video games that focused on annihilating things, and that was enough for Stan.

It had escalated from there. Whenever Kyle was too busy and Kenny was off chasing girls (and boys), Stan would go hang out with Cartman. Sometimes they'd actually go out and do something, but mostly it was playing video games or watching TV, and they'd talk a bit during their snack breaks or during commercials. It was these moments where Stan felt his admiration of the overweight boy grow, through accidental hand touches, idle chitchat, and falling asleep on each other.

So when Cartman suggested they go up to the mountains, of all things, he knew that there was going to be some sort of confrontation. And to be honest, he had terrified at the thought of that. He assumed that Cartman had caught on to his little secret and was now going to exploit it. But Stan wasn't going to let that happen.

So he left before his mouth could betray him. But there was another problem he had to worry about now, and that was getting home. It'd taken about an hour to get up here in Cartman's truck, and while they'd driven slowly, it was still much faster than walking. Spending two or more hours trekking down a mountain didn't seem ideal for Stan, so he sat for a while, hoping, desperately, that Cartman hadn't already driven down and gone home.

"Stan, I have a bone to pick with you!" came the much-appreciated screeching of Eric Cartman. Thank God. Stan turned his head to look at the boy waddling down the slope, huffing between grunts. The brunette gave him a very dirty look while he tried to catch his breath. Stan opened his mouth to say something but Cartman put a hand up in a "don't-you-dare" motion.

The blue-eyed teen sighed, waiting for his savior-to-be to catch his damn breath. Finally the obese boy got his breathe and quickly used it all up in a rant.

"What the fuck, man? I could kill you right now, Stan, and make it look like an accident! That's it, huh? Just walk away with nothing to say? Is that what you always do? Not with me – I get an explanation right now or I'm throwing your ass off this mountain and then running you over and then cutting you up and selling you as fishing bait!"

Stan frowned. "I just want a ride home, okay? We can talk on the way down."

Cartman seemed to be satisfied with that – at least, he unbristled enough to offer his hand out to Stan, who took it and let himself be pulled to a standing position. They walked back up the mountain, both out of breath and sweating by the time they reached Cartman's truck.

Going down the mountain seemed like a finality to Cartman, like the end of something. His friendship with Stan, most likely. He'd been stupid to come up here with the hippie and tell him something like that. What did he expect to happen? This wasn't some fairy tale where he rescues the princess – in this case, the prince – and they declare their undying love for each other and live happily ever after. This is reality, where Stan runs down several hundred feet of mountain just to escape him. Cartman had had one final fleeting hope that going after Stan would change something, let him enter that fairy tale world, but so far it appeared that wasn't going to happen.

Stan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking everywhere but the other human inhabiting the vehicle. "Well…this was…"

"Don't even, Stan." Cartman sighed. "Just tell me you don't like me like that, and we'll never speak of this again, alright? I don't even care anymore." Except he did, a lot. There was a long silence that was slowly tearing at Cartman's nerves. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, turning as pale as the snow that usually blanketed the ground any other time of year.

"I would tell you I don't like you like that, but it wouldn't be the truth," the raven finally said. It took other boy a few moments to comprehend what he'd just said.

"So…what? You like me, too?" It sounded so childish when he said it. He could've punched himself if he wasn't so anxious to clear things up. Stan nodded, then voiced his answer in case Cartman wasn't looking. He was, of course, but that wasn't the point.

"Yeah. I have for a while?" Stan shrugged. "I don't know. There's always been something…different about you. It's like you remind me of Wendy, but at the same time you don't. I've just really had this…sort of crush on you for a while now, and…"

"Then why'd you run?" Why was his heart beat pounding in his ears like this?

Stan chuckled. "You're manipulative? You're Eric Cartman. If you're asking anyone on a date, it's usually not for good reasons."

The brunette frowned. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? I'm not all bad, Stan."

"Remember in eighth grade when you asked out Heidi Turner? I don't know how you got her to say yes, but you totally just used her for blackmail purposes, dude."

"Fuck off, she's the only one I ever did that to." Cartman was starting to get a little irritated. "There were girls I actually liked…Like Patty Nelson."

"You really liked her?" Stan sounded surprised. Cartman gave an annoyed huff.

"Yeah. Asked her out a couple times before she finally said yes. We dated secretly for a few months before I broke it off." He turned sharply to avoid a rock. Stan's phone slid down to the floorboard. It didn't look like he cared about it.

"Shit, dude…" he paused. "Why'd you break up?"

Before Cartman could stop himself, he said the gayest thing he'd ever said in existence: "She wasn't you."

His face was beet red, he was sure, so he didn't look over at Stan, who had been stunned into silence. They'd finally made it down the mountain, and Cartman put the truck into park. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like he didn't want to go home just yet. Didn't feel like going back into South Park, where everything would go back to normal – as normal as it could be, that is.

"Look, I know I'm manipulative, and mean, and heartless, and a whole lot of bad things…" he stopped.

Stan raised an eyebrow. "But?"

"But I'm a whole lot of good things, too, damn it! People, mostly Kyle, just like to focus on all my bad qualities, but there are a lot of good qualities I have. Like my good looks, for one – Ey! Stop your laughing, bitch!"

Stan grinned, calming down his chuckles. "Sorry."

"I'm also hilarious, obviously." Cartman tapped on the steering wheel. "And…other things, too. What I'm trying to get at is that I'm not just doing this to get something out of you, Stan. This isn't some plot to ruin your life."

The raven was silent. He kicked at the phone at his feet before sighing. "I know. I didn't really expect you to try and ruin my life, or anything. This was just all so sudden, I guess. I mean, I knew something was up, and maybe I did expect this to happen, but I didn't _really_ expect this to happen." He met eyes with the larger boy. "I do like you, though, and I was hoping this moment would eventually come…God knows I wasn't going to make the first move." He chuckled nervously. "So, you know, if you were going to do something crazy like ask me out or something, I wouldn't be _totally_ against the idea."

Cartman smirked at the blush growing on Stan's cheeks. "Well, then in that case, do you want to go grab an ice cream before I take you home?"

"Are you going to pay for mine?"

"Fuck no."

"Then fuck yeah."


End file.
